Dirty Faces
revised
All week this dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country lies far beyond
our home. Sunday he reads the paper and falls
asleep. The mum's watching a matinee
she's seen. We play our knock down ginger game.
No one unbolts a door. The bank is muddy
and we christen our jeans. It's the old cane
across our hands. 'Little bastards,' she screams.
=======================================================================================
original
All week the dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country is far beyond
our street. Sunday he reads the paper
and falls asleep. The mum is watching a film
she's seen. We play the knock down ginger game.
No one opens a door. The bank is muddy
and we christen our jeans. It's the old cane
across our hands. 'Little bastards,' she screams.
All week this dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country lies far beyond
our home. Sunday he reads the paper and falls
asleep. The mum's watching a matinee
she's seen. We play our knock down ginger game.
No one unbolts a door. The bank is muddy
and we christen our jeans. It's the old cane
across our hands. 'Little bastards,' she screams.
=======================================================================================
original
All week the dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country is far beyond
our street. Sunday he reads the paper
and falls asleep. The mum is watching a film
she's seen. We play the knock down ginger game.
No one opens a door. The bank is muddy
and we christen our jeans. It's the old cane
across our hands. 'Little bastards,' she screams.
Last edited by Macavity on Sun Aug 04, 2013 10:58 am, edited 9 times in total.
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Mac, first impressions. The word the before dad, mum, and old cane, jarred for me on reading.Mac wrote:
All week the dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country is far beyond
our street. Sunday he reads the paper
and falls asleep. The mum is watching a film
she's seen. We play the knock down ginger game.
No one opens a door. The bank is muddy
and we christen our jeans. It's the old cane
across our hands. 'Little bastards,' she screams.
The ginger game may be subject to locality so I did not understand the reference, and therefore the line
no one opens door eluded me has to meaning, is it part of the game.?
seeya.D
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Hi Mac,
Dunno.
Seth
I wonder if it is a bit over "eee"d at this point....Week/jeans/street/sleep/reads.. and then "she" and then "seen".The mum is watching a film
she's seen.
Dunno.
Seth
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Too many additives? I'll see if I can clean out some of these wee 'e'sAntcliff wrote:Hi Mac,
I wonder if it is a bit over "eee"d at this point....Week/jeans/street/sleep/reads.. and then "she" and then "seen".The mum is watching a film
she's seen.
Dunno.
Seth
mac
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Hiya Mac it seems like line 2 is part of line 1 and that the van is being driven in the "black country"All week this dad is driving vans to buy
us jeans. The Black Country is far beyond
our home
(hope that makes sense)
Reading the paper in version 1,came across better for me.
seeya......D
I like this. Puts the reader in a fabric of time where entertainment wasn't based on technology (apart from Mum watching afternoon tv) Dad driving miles for economical reasons, kids being kids and being punished for it. Good old times? I feel like knocking on a door and running away!
A pleasant snapshot of events which were commonplace life situations in the not too distant past, quite possibly heading for a resurgence in light of the current stresses placed upon sections of society, those which are far removed from the bed wetters currently raking it in large style off the backs of ordinary folk through the redistribution of wealth exercise taking place all around us.
Thanks for the read
Dalena
Thanks for the read
Dalena
Life is one good lick away from being naughty
Thanks Dalena. I think they call it re-balancing the economy eg devaluing the pound so the wealthy put their money into gold and the poorer spend more money on fuel costs.raking it in large style off the backs of ordinary folk through the redistribution of wealth exercise
cheers
mac
Too true. A nice snap shot Mac. The black Country is only about ten miles up the road from me.Macavity wrote:Thanks Dalena. I think they call it re-balancing the economy eg devaluing the pound so the wealthy put their money into gold and the poorer spend more money on fuel costs.raking it in large style off the backs of ordinary folk through the redistribution of wealth exercise
cheers
mac
I am not a number ... I am a FREE man!
Oh no Mac I'm a Brummie born and bred. The Black Country is a separate area with its own Identity. I know many black country folk who would be very miffed if thought of as Brummies.Macavity wrote:Thanks Kev. Ten miles? I presumed you were in its concrete heartThe black Country is only about ten miles up the road from me.
cheers
mac
I am not a number ... I am a FREE man!
I stand corrected! I didn't realise the 'tribal' area was so specificThe Black Country is a separate area with its own Identity. I know many black country folk who would be very miffed if thought of as Brummies.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/blackcountry/uncov ... t_is.shtml
cheers
mac
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Yes, I confess I found the mix of first person (our home etc) and the objectification of mum and dad (through the use of the definite article) a bit confusing, too.David Smedley wrote:The word the before dad, mum, and old cane, jarred for me on reading.
Apart from that, quite a nicely constructed, and readable, personal (I assume) reflection, though - for me - it lacks that dimension of allegory/philosophy/observation that tends to characterise a really interesting poem.
Cheers
peter